Look for your Shiba, now back to mine, now back to yours, now back to mine.
Sadly, yours isn’t mine. But if you had gotten paranoid and kept watching to make sure yours didn’t chew through the lead and take off after the chickens in the neighbour’s yard, yours could be like mine.
Look down, back up. Where are you?
You’re wandering, around the neighbourhood, dreaming of the tethered, confined dog – the dog your dog could be like.
I’m leashed to a Shiba…
You know what I don’t get about my shiba? If she slips her collar in the busy municipal park next to the busy road, where dogs aren’t allowed off leash, she runs away like the wind. But if I take off her leash in the vast, people-free, car-free, wooded, rodent-infested forest where off-leash is allowed… she clings to me like a bad conscience. What in the world is THAT all about?